


The Seduction of Shawn Spencer

by HankyPranky



Category: Psych (TV 2006)
Genre: 18+, Dating, Fluff, M/M, Pierre is a top, Romance, Smut, There is a case, slowish burn, tags to be updated as story is posted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27012778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HankyPranky/pseuds/HankyPranky
Summary: Pierre and Shawn have been exchanging letters for the last five months since their first encounter. Now that Pierre is a free man, their relationship unfolds beyond the paper.
Relationships: Pierre Despereaux/Shawn Spencer
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter One: Freedom

Shawn had been in his office chair, tossing his 5th Ticonderoga pencil into the ceiling when the sea breeze filtered in. He wasn’t expecting anyone since Gus was wrapping up his other job when he looked up to see none other than the Great Despereaux. 

“Hello, Shawn,” he announced. His hair perfectly coif, blue eyes matching his blue two-piece suit looking like he stepped out of Men’s Health magazine. 

“Despereaux!” He jumped from his chair. “What are you doing here? I mean, it’s good to see you out of orange.”

“I was acquitted. Surely, you must be aware.” 

“Of course, I followed your case, but I mean, here… in Santa Barbara.”

“Well, I’ve booked a week-long retreat on Santa Rosa Island. I believe it was you that told me to soak up some Vitamin D.” Pierre cocked his head, “You could come with me if you’d like.”

For a moment, Shawn’s synapses stopped firing, “I- I can’t. We’re in the middle of a case.” He was sure this was the most responsible thing he has done in years, if not  _ ever _ . 

Pierre ran his finger along the desk, “Another time perhaps.” He had been certain Shawn would run away with him, but he was unwilling to let his disappointment show. He asked, “How about dinner next Friday, 7 pm?”

“Sure. Where?”

“I will send you the details.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the room, “Do you want to go get a smoothie?”

Pierre met Shawn’s gaze and apologized, “I really must be off.” 

“No worries,” he said with a pout. “I’ll catch you next week.”

Pierre nodded. “Until then,” leaving his flustered psychic alone. He could be patient, and the seduction of Shawn Spencer has begun.

  
  
  


Shawn flopped down in his chair. Counting on his fingers the time they have been exchanging letters… Three months while he was incarcerated in Canada, another two after he was transferred to the US before his trial. That’s five months of flirtatious banter, and he didn’t even get a hug! What the hell, man. 


	2. First Date

It was mid-afternoon when a knock on the door woke Shawn from his slumber. Their case wrapped up around 3 am so he was entitled to sleep in. Answering the door in his Funshine Care Bear pajama pants and grey shirt, the man on the other side of the threshold asked, “Shawn Spencer?”

Blearily responding, “Yes.”

“These are for you.” The delivery man pushed a flower arrangement into his hands. Shawn stared at them for a moment, still not quite awake. “Hey, I don’t mean to pry, but you live here at the old Fluff n Fold?” 

“Uh, yeah.” Shawn scanned the delivery man, Steve, according to the name tag. The older surfer dude only brushes his hair for work. Sun stained skin, permanent Teva’s, slathered in organic kale lotion complimenting the cannabis in a very California way.

“Do you take drop-offs at all?” 

Shawn rubbed his eyes. “Yea’, the third of every month. But there is a 40lb minimum, and I don’t press or fold.”

Steve snorted, “That’s cool, man. Thought I’d ask.”

He replied, “No, I’m serious. I charge a dollar a pound.” It wasn’t well known that he operated the dry cleaning machines, but it was a quick way to make money with little to no effort on his part. 

Steve smiled, “Wildman. Catch ya’ later.” 

  
  
  


Setting them down at his coffee table, he reached for the note nestled between the bright orange and yellow flowers. Though Shawn couldn’t tell the difference between a plant or flower, He knew this was a nice bouquet. It had various shaped leaves of different shades of green, with these cool, Kool-Aid red knobby acorn looking… succulents? That sounded right, at least. 

The note read:

_ I look forward to an evening with you at Alma’s this Friday. _

_ Cordially yours, _

_ Pierre Desperaux _

  
  


The florist must have transcripted the note as it wasn’t written in Pierre’s curlsive style. He was grateful the arrangement was sent to his apartment rather than the office. The gifts they have shared were innocuous, but Gus would catch a hernia again if he knew they were still communicating  _ or _ that he had dropped by the office offering to whisk him away. The last time Gus had seen Despereaux, the thief had used them both to escape  _ and  _ de-escape prison. He decided it was better not to tell him again. 

Pulling out his phone, Shawn searched for the restaurant. He had never heard of Alma’s before, and when he found the website, he knew why. It was exclusive - having won two Mitchum stars. He wanted to freak out about what he was going to wear, but the case had taken its toll on him. Closing the blinds a little tighter, he moved the flowers to his nightstand and crawled back into bed. The lingering fresh scent full of promise luring him back asleep. 

  
  
  
  


When it came to Pierre, Shawn always felt a little in the dark. The man was shrouded in mystery and misdirection; he wondered if that’s how others viewed him. That would be cool, but not what was on his mind. No, what was on his mind now, since he solved his wardrobe, was how he would get to the restaurant. 

If he rode his motorcycle, he would have to either leave it or ride it if their date led to hanky panky. However, taking a bus to a five-star restaurant and then having to tell his date we need to wrap it up before the midnight line shuts down is definitely something he does not want to admit to. At least, not to  _ this date.. _ . Taking a rideshare was also now out of the equation because his phone was toast again. This time, he most definitely did  **NOT** put it in the toaster for safekeeping. 

  
  


Shawn was fiddling with buttoning and unbuttoning his tweed vest when there was a knock at his door. He should really move again. Too many people knew where he lived now. He was relieved to see Gus, “Damn Shawn, you look good. You got a date?” 

“Yuppers.” He did a quick turn, “Buttoned or unbuttoned?” 

“Unbuttoned, but you should really iron your shirt.”

“You know I don’t have an iron!” 

Gus snipped, “You mean anymore.” 

Shawn took off the vest and his shirt, brought it to the steamer, and turned it on. “Hey, can you give me a ride to the other side of town?” Gus rifled through Shawn’s clothes. This must be a pretty special date if he is wearing one of the outfits from their time as Black and Tan. He sighed as he took out his own deep brown Tommy Hilfiger slacks he bought a few months ago.

Tossing them at Shawn, he said, “Wear these instead. But I want them back after you wash them. I only wore them once.” 

“Thanks man, you’re the best.” Gus didn’t even try to get him to change out of his Vans sneakers. He sat down and played some video games until Shawn was done fussing with his hair. 

Gus dropped him off at the Jamba Juice on 3rd, but he still had some time to kill. He walked down to the park and hung out on a bench sipping on his Mango-a-go-go drink, watching pigeons fight over chicken bones until it was time for this man to a go-go.

His anxiety reached a new level as the doorman let him in, and the  maître d' took him to their table. Only when Pierre stood was he snapped back to reality. 

Shawn felt his belly drop out. Pierre was debonair as always in his tan suit and midnight blue roll neck jumper. His shoulders appeared larger in person, and he felt his pants tighten slightly. 

  
  


He had tunnel vision most of the meal. Shawn couldn’t remember what he ate or drank, only the way Pierre’s lips curled, how his brows crinkled when he was amused, and how torn he was between staring at Pierre’s devilish smile and losing himself in the blue abyss of his eyes. 

He was broken out of his reverie when Pierre reached across the table and rested his hand gently on his. “I asked, was that supposed to be a pickup line?” 

Pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, he could not remember what he just said, so he asked with a grin, “Did it work?” 

Pierre pulled back and laughed loudly. “Oh Shawn, you don’t need any pickup lines. You’ve already caught me.” He kept his eyes focused on the psychic, “I’d love for you to show me around town this weekend, but I can’t say I’m inclined to visit the library.”

Crap, now he remembered what he said as he mocked himself in his head, ‘It’s handy that I have my library card because I’m totally checking you out.’ Shawn could feel how hot his skin was. He was sure he was flush as a peach. Apparently trying to be mature and actually being mature were two different things. 

His mouth went on trying to cover himself, “Gus and I sometimes go down there to pick up smart chics.” Ugh. “But I always just watch the puppet show.” Double ugh!

Much to Shawn’s dismay, Pierre was tickled pink by his bluster. It was refreshing to him as his life was full of pompous people, even by his standards. 

“Would you like dessert?”

“Always... Do you think they have anything pineapple?”

  
  
  


Pierre was insistent that he drop Shawn off at his apartment rather than two blocks away like he proposed. They arrived at the address, and Pierre pursed his lips and turned to Shawn, his voice hitching slightly, “This is your address?” 

“Yup! Mimi’s Fluff n Fold! I helped her out a while back, so she gives me a great deal on rent.” He rubbed his hands on his pants, “Do you... Do you want to come in?”

Shawn prayed the answer was no because he  _ Absolutely  _ did not think there was a possibility of Pierre coming back to  _ his place.  _

With a twinkle in his eye, he responded, “How could I refuse.”

The clicks of their seat belts felt final. As they approached, they saw some movement behind the curtains that were illuminated by the television being on. “That’s probably Gus.”

Pierre’s face pinched, “Probably?”

Tonight was not the night to greet Guster, and he would not allow his young counterpart to fend for himself if it was a bilk. “Let me walk you to the door at least.” Shawn hesitated, and Pierre suggested, “What if it’s not Guster?”

Biting his lip, he acquiesced. Pierre was probably above necking in the car, and this date definitely needed punctuation. A very intimate exclamation point or an ampersand even. 

Silently approaching the apartment with Pierre trailing a few steps behind, Shawn opened the door and saw his other half perched on the couch playing video games. Gus turned his head to see Shawn giving him a thumbs up, followed by him pointing to his watch and holding up 5 digits. He shhh’d him and closed the door to face the great and sexy Pierre Despereaux. 

“All clear. It’s only Gus wondering why I’m back here _ ,”  _ he said emphasizing the last word.

Pierre took a step forward into the soft yellow light on his ‘porch.’ He ran his finger over his eyebrow, his large hands casting shadows on the ground, “Always go to theirs then, eh?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you have nothing to hide from me. I hope one day we can become quite close,” he grasped Shawn’s hand and pulled him flush against his body. 

Inches apart, Shawn’s heart rate skyrocketed. Taking in shallow breaths, he could smell Pierre’s warmth surrounding him. Clean and crisp like his suits and pursuits. Fresh like the flowers he had sent. He licked his lips in anticipation and felt a soft press of plush lips meeting his. Fingers grazed the back of his neck, shivers skirting across his body, he involuntarily pressing himself into Pierre’s chest. 

Almost stumbling back, Pierre wrapped his other hand around Shawn’s back and closed the distance between them again. He left soft, unassuming kisses on his lips. There was no accent in the little “Mmmm” that escaped. 

Shawn wasn’t sure if he was even supporting himself anymore; they were still chest to chest. He slowly opened his eyes to meet Pierre’s gentle gaze. Only then did he feel the cool air replace the heat of their kiss. The art connoisseur breathed, “Priceless.”

They slowly separated themselves, both fighting their urges to melt back together when Pierre spoke, “ We must do this again.”

Placing a tender kiss on his cheek, he bid a speechless Shawn Spencer goodnight and left him dazed on his doorstep. 


	3. Two Weeks Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I will try to post another chapter after this one since it's so short :)

The sun was setting on the horizon as Gus and Shawn walked toward their car. Gus opened the trunk to remove the extra towels he stored there. The scent of anchovies and tar lingered in the air, and Gus finally reached his breaking point before throwing one at Shawn. “Dude, are you gonna’ tell me why you have been so miserable for the last two weeks? We barely made it out of that case alive.”

It was true if Shawn hadn’t been so distracted, they never would have ended up trapped in the factory pulling a Scooby-Doo down the corridors, slipping and sliding into god know what. His friend shouted, “Spill!”

“Fine! You know that guy I went on a date with? Well, he never called.”

The crease in Gus’ forehead was deep, 8/10 for his disbelief face.”You almost got us killed because someone ghosted you?”

Shawn arranged his towel on his seat, “It’s not like that, man. I thought he really liked me. I took him to the best seven out of ten juice bars, we went hiking at Grandview at sunset, and I even sat through a foreign film for him!”

“You watched a film with subtitles?” They got in the Blueberry and rolled down all the windows. 

“Yes!” He had to admit that ‘Le Cercle Rouge’ was thrilling, and the jewel heist movie did mirror his own thief’s hijinks, but they didn’t even make out during it. “He flew off to Japan or Ozark or somewhere fancy.”

As Shawn neared his apartment door, his heart sped up at the sight of another bouquet. Skipping over to it, it was all floral-y with a note. He ripped it open.

_ Shawn, _

_ I hope I didn’t misread our weekend together. Please forgive me and allow me to make it up to you as I haven’t heard from you. 651-6670. _

_ Pierre _

He really needed to shower this stank of him from the case. He used his new pineapple wash to scrub himself but unfortunately didn’t leave him as fresh as the precious fruit he loves. 

Feeling clean enough, he grabbed his hoodie and headed down to the South Ward, where he can find a payphone. As much as Shawn hated to touch the greasy telephone handle, the sound of the quarter sliding down and clanging against the metal was worth it. He dialed Despereaux. 

He answered, “Hello?” 

“Pierre?”

“Yes. Who is calling?” Shawn pictured him in a suit with a glass in his hand.

“Oh, it’s Shawn,” he gushed.

“Shawn, glad to hear your voice. You received my flowers, I take it?”

“I did, thank you. I’m sorry I lost my phone at a water park last week and haven’t had time to replace it yet.” There was a long pause, but Pierre didn’t berate him. 

“I suppose I can let it ‘slide,’” he chuckled. “Perhaps we should stick to writing letters again.” 

Shawn glanced around. He could see a streetwalker getting in the car of a john and saw what looked like a person buying drugs. ”Yeah, I’d like that.” He kept his eyes focused on his surroundings.

Sensing his attention was elsewhere, he asked, “Are you in the middle of something?”

He shook his head, “No, sorry. I’m on a payphone. Gus doesn’t know I forgot to pay the phone bill again. Though I should probably make it quick, it’s not the best neighborhood.” 

“Ah, I tried calling you at the office as well. Are you well?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I saw some uniforms around the corner.” Though, it wasn’t what Pierre was insinuating.

As a master of evasion, he dodged the question, “When do you think you’re coming to town?

“My schedule is quite full for the time being, but I anticipate some work in LA soon. Would you care to join me?”

He excitedly responded, “Yesssssss.” 

“Wonderful, I will send you the details by mail. I look forward to seeing you.” Shawn was beaming. This was the best way to end such a crummy day. 

“Awesome! Well, I see a cruiser around the corner. I’m gonna’ see if they can give me a lift back home.”

“Take care, Shawn.” 

“You too, Desperaux.”


	4. Smut Delivery

It had been roughly six weeks since his trip to Los Angeles, where they had another wonderful weekend together, most importantly, sexy adult fun times. Shawn wished that he could text Pierre. Apparently, as frequently as he loses or damages his phone, Pierre insists on keeping their exchanges on paper. 

Begrudgingly accepting it at the time, his chest now blooms with warmth every time he gets a letter in the mail. It’s to the point where he’s practically developed a pavlovian response to his mailman, Ed. Today was no different. 

_My Dearest Shawn,_

_It has been too long since we have seen one another, and I yearn to taste your sun-kissed skin. The photograph you enclosed in your last letter brought a smile to my lips, but it was not enough to grant my desire a reprieve. My arrival is scheduled for Tuesday, the 17th._

_Although I appreciate knowing that you have had your rabies vaccine, please be careful around wildlife. Those young raccoons looked feisty._

_xoxo_

Shawn was bouncing on the balls of his feet with anticipation. He didn’t understand why such a sophisticated, sexy, AWESOME older _gentleman_ like Desperaux would be interested in him. Still, he tossed his doubt out the window. He was pretty awesome. 

  
  


That’s only seven days away. Shawn is eternally grateful he wouldn’t have to wait a month or longer. A week was manageable. He and Gus could stay occupied until his boyfriend came. Uh, boyfriend? He thought Pierre would say that sounds pedestrian. He scoffed at that too but struggled to come up with another adjective. They hadn’t even had the monogamy conversation yet, unsure if they would even have it. Though, a booty call wasn’t accurate either. If anything, he felt like he was being courted. Perhaps, Pierre was his suitor?

Considering this has been the longest ‘relationship’ he has ever been in, his mind was bombarded with their future. He wouldn’t leave Santa Barbara again. At least, not now since he’s nurtured Psych into something worthwhile. He couldn't imagine Pierre settling down here either. L.A. maybe? That was only about a two-hour drive from here. The other option would be not to define their relationship, continuing like this forever, which was okay with him.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he made plans to look his best. He needed to brighten up his tan, get a haircut, and wrap up the two cases he and Gus had been working on. What else? Get a manicure? He would just see when his Dad’s next one was scheduled and surprise him so he would pay for his too. 

The day was here. Though Shawn had no idea what time Pierre would land, he got up at an ungodly early time, six am. His small apartment was sparking by 10 am because of his nerves. He was very excited when the door rang and was slightly disappointed. It was his bi-weekly flower delivery. That is until the bouquet was lowered, and it was Desperauz holding the decoration.

Pierre’s face lit up with one of his rare smiles. His laugh lines curling around his high cheekbones. Shawn’s eagerness stopped Pierre from finishing his greeting, “Sha-“ and Shawn’s eager lips pressed into Pierre’s.

He pulled back, his hazel eyes meeting blue. “Ga Day,” he said in an Australian accent, frowning slightly at his own words. 

“Hello to you too, Shawn. Care to invite me in?”

He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. “Of course.” He waved his... lover? into his place. “The flowers, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” He took the two dozen roses and carried them to his bedside, where he always kept them. Typically, they were tropical flowers he didn’t know the names of, never this overly romantic. 

Pierre studied him. He was wearing a new linen suit. The summers in California weren’t as forgiving to allow him to get away with one of his leather bomber coats this time of year. 

“Now, come here.” Shawn obeyed as the Englishman pulled him into his embrace. He found his face being peppered with kisses by soft and plush lips. He reveled in the attention.

He inhaled Pierre’s woodsy but floral aftershave. Though Shawn rarely stayed still, he was not incapable of it. He had found early that he would be rewarded, this attention, being his reward if he obeyed. 

Pierre’s fingers deftly unbuttoned his tan shirt, quickly removing Shawn’s undershirt as well before placing the same kisses along with his shoulders. Pierre’s hands were nimble; they must be, as an art thief. They traced down Shawn’s ribs, making him shiver. 

His voice was low, dripping in sweetness, “To bed.” Shawn removed his pants and boxers and knelt in the center of the bed, waiting. He watched as Pierre slowly shed his suit jacket, followed by his shoes as socks. He unbuttoned his own shirt and plucked it from his trousers. 

Shawn could have read Pierre but didn’t. He found that Pierre’s private company was enough to shut his brain down, and only when he experienced it, he knew what peace was. 

Pierre knew this and took advantage of it. Shawn’s hero worship was a turn on. To have someone so brilliant and pliable beneath him was a pleasure not to be taken for granted. He vowed to meet all of Shawn's expectations and give himself over to him entirely as he never would with a mark or for a casual dalliance. 

Knowing how greedy Shawn was for him, he slowly strutted to the bed, his hand hovered over his belt before clasping his hands behind his back. Shawn crept forward and unbuckled his belt for him, “Let me.”

Pierre stepped out of them with his pants undone, semi-hard, and placed them on the couch a few feet away so they wouldn’t wrinkle. 

Shawn was salivating to have his mouth on him but was patient until Pierre led the dance. His jaw was gripped ever so slightly, and he gazed into his eyes once again. “Mmm, so beautiful. I cannot wait to have you splayed out on these sheets.” 

Shawn nodded and was pushed against his bedspread with Pierre above him, his large frame encompassing Shawn's world. The movement stirred the scent of the roses. Pierre asked, “Is this why you keep them near your bed?”

Shawn’s response was husky, “Yes.”

Pierre kisses his sternum and softly circled his nipples. “Tell me, do you touch yourself when you think of me? When you smell them?” 

His breath hitched, “Yes.”

“Show me.” He rolled to his side, watching in delight as Shawn gripped his cock and moved his hands up and down slowly. Pierre mimicked the motion as he continued his kisses around Shawn's shoulder and arm until it was too much, “I want you to come for me.”

Shawn's movements became more rapid until he was tense with his brimming orgasm. Pierre devoured him with his eyes, memorizing this scene for his own pleasure in the future. 

Only after Shawn spilled himself on his stomach did Pierre make a move. He crawled up and put his aching dick in Shawn's mouth, which was taken with such vigor he only lasted a few moments before cumming down his throat in a blind haze. 

Collapsing next to his younger counterpart, he gripped The back of Shawn's head and pulled him in for a hard kiss, tasting himself in their communal effort for release. 

Resting their foreheads against one another’s, Shawn broke the silence. “Is now the right time to tell you that a new smoothie place opened up a few blocks from here?” Pierre laughed heartily. 

“Shall we?” 

Throwing his hand against his chest, “Inna’ minute,” he huffed out. They laughed together until their legs worked again.


	5. Traveling

Leaving the juice stand with the frosty drinks walking along the pier, Shawn rambled, “I’m surprised you aren’t wearing a disguise.”

Studying his young lover, he asked, “Why would I need one?”

“Lassie has it in for you,” Shawn shrugged. 

“Ah, you’ve mentioned that in your letters.” He took Shawn's hand, and they slowed, “But, as you remember, they didn’t have enough evidence even to indict me. I’m an innocent man.”

“Until proven guilty.” The playfulness lingered in Pierre’s gaze. “At least that’s how he thinks of it,” Shawn finished.

They sat at a nearby bench, “Is that how you see me? A criminal?”

“Pshhh naw. Of course not,” he sipped his drink. 

Even though Shawn has never come clean about running circles around the SBPD, Pierre understood Shawn operates in a grey area just as he does. They have never discussed this; however, Shawn does have a strong sense of justice. Pierre opined, “You and I both know the importance of never leaving evidence behind.” 

He examined Shawn’s expression and was unable to read him. He took his psychic’s hand in his and asked sincerely, “Would you prefer to see me behind bars?”

Shawn smirked to cover his somber mood, “Orange does nothing for your skin tone.” 

Searching the horizon, Pierre asked, “Would you prefer me actually be an art appraiser?”

Shawn shifted in his seat, “Does art mean that much to you?”

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. But, as your senior, I can say that I have found a line of work that suits my talents. It’s hard to change trajectory at my age.” He paused, “Perhaps in a different time, I would have robbed from the rich and given to the poor.”

“But what would you want to do in a perfect world? Like, if you had your own Truman Show, The Despereaux Show, would you pick a different line of work?”

This made Pierre hesitate. There was so much that Shawn didn’t know about him, and though he is willing to reveal more about himself, they weren’t in  _ that _ phase of their relationship yet. “No. But when I give this up, I could see myself lounging about, philosophizing about human nature and reciting poems and literature. Speaking of the works of the masters and their connection to humanity…”

“In your Spencer World, what do you see yourself doing?”

Shawn grinned, his answer coming quickly, “I’m already doing it! Hanging out with Gus, solving crimes! I've been on an NFL football team, saw our dreams come true on American Duos, although Nigel St. Nigel is a jerk in person too.” He let go of Pierre’s hand. “We saved his life and didn’t even get a thank you!”

The adventurous spirit of Shawn Spencer was a marvel to behold. He had just the right dash of narcissism to make it comical. “And where is your beloved Guster right now?”

Shawn kicked his foot out, “At his real job. I wasn’t sure how long you’re staying, so we wrapped up our cases and told him I saw a job opening at the chocolate factory, so I have until Friday until he calls.” He took a sip from his banana frappe wheatgrass juice, “They always do the firing at the end of the week unless you…” he trailed off

Pierre gestured with his hand, “Unless you do what?”

In a run-on sentence, he babbled, “Unless you switch out the molds for the actual candy, you want them to reproduce and they catch you.”

Pierre chuckled, “I see you’ve worked in a chocolate factory before?”

Shawn smiled widely, “In Hershey! It was the best sugar-induced coma I’ve ever had! Totally worth it.”

Pierre leaned in for a kiss, and the stale mood dissipated. 

* * *

Later in the afternoon, Shawn unpacked his weekend bag onto the dresser in Pierre’s hotel room instead of just chucking it in the corner. 

Pierre was aware Shawn  _ could  _ take care of himself, but it wasn’t entirely selfless. “How would you feel about me buying property here? In Santa Barbara.” A pullout mattress in a dry cleaner was not how he wanted to spend his leisure time, and staying in a hotel seemed impersonal.

Shawn stopped unpacking, astonished by the question. “Would you visit more often?” 

Walking toward Shawn, he rubbed his hands down his arms, “Yes.” Tracing the curve of his neck with his lips, he declared, “And I would like for you to live there. “

The psychic went stiff, and Pierre backed away to see Shawn’s nose crinkled. He asked, “You mean, us living together?”

He gave him an apologetic grin, “Heavens, no.” Shawn relaxed, “Perhaps you would live there as the caretaker? I wouldn’t infringe on your privacy or lifestyle. You would still be able to bring whomever you want back to the home with you…. But I think it would be nice to have a property here and a place to stay when I come to town.” He licked his lips, “Seeing as I have a vested interest here and all…”

Shawn inched himself a little closer to his thief, “You want to become my sugar daddy?”

Pierre turned his hand over and chuckled, “To a certain extent. In terms of your living situation, and when I come to visit. Yes.”

It felt surreal to Shawn. Of course, he understood Pierre wouldn’t want to stay at his fluff and fold apartment. That’s why he always stayed in hotels like this. He barely wanted to live there himself anymore. But this is a commitment. Pierre was asking him for a promise of sorts. 

As if sensing his hesitation, Pierre added, “I have properties around the globe.”

He wasn’t a convicted criminal but what he did was still illegal. Did it matter? Nah, he liked him too much. Lassie would  _ never  _ let this drop if he knew Shawn's relationship with the man. Heaven forbid what his father would think of it. 

Shawn swan dived onto the bed, “Can it have a pool and a hot tub?

“Yes.”

“Then hell’s yea!” He corrected himself, “ Yeah, I think it would be nice.” He cleared his throat. “I want you to visit more.”

Pierre knelt on the foot of the bed and smiled, “You don’t need to censor yourself around me.” He crept over Shawn, huffing out, “Hells yeah it is,” and it sounded as foreign coming out of his mouth as it did to hear it with his own ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters will be a case with Pierre!


	6. Revealing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay in posting. I couldn't find a good spot to break this up, so it's just one giant case fic chapter! I hope you enjoy <3

It was only a few days later that trouble had followed them to their romantic horse riding picnic. 

Shawn was giddy when Pierre told them they would be riding horses in the afternoon. The drive from the city was about an hour. It seemed like they should have traveled farther before they were in farmland. Shawn complained a little that he didn’t know in advance to dress for the part, but the ranch owner was happy to let him borrow a cowboy hat. 

Their slow and beautiful ride was interrupted until they rounded a lazy turn of the trail, where they came upon a man slumped on the ground. His blue shirt soiled in dirt and blood, his collar bone protruding. Pierre dismounted his stead with grace while Shawn struggled to get down. The psychic needed help balancing himself on the stirrup. 

Pierre held the reins as Shawn checked his neck for a pulse. “He’s dead, but he’s still warm.” 

Pierre let out a harsh breath while Shawn scanned the body for the cause. He walked the trail back, he wouldn’t have missed it if he wasn’t enraptured by his date, but there was a small amount of vomit on the side of the path and a half-eaten apple core further down. Horseback riding could be dangerous, but this man’s death couldn’t have been caused by the fall.

“Want to work a case with your favorite psychic?”

Pierre inquired with his slightly posh accent., “Are you insinuating this is murder?” 

Shawn lifted his fingers to his forehead, “Yes, now let’s  _ stir up _ some trouble.” 

A slight smirk appeared on the Englishman’s lips. He always did have a secret fondness for puns. “Stay with the body. I will return to call the authorities.” He handed the reins to his stead back to Shawn and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Shawn, be careful. If there is a murderer on the ranch-”

“-I know,” Shawn interrupted. “Keep a lookout for this dead dude’s horse, though. I don’t think there will be any evidence on it, but you never know.”

Pierre saddled up quickly and was on his way back to the ranch, leaving Shawn with the dead body for 35 minutes. After checking the body for ID, he was already bored in the first three minutes. He recited lines from The Last Unicorn and then moved onto Seabiscuit when he couldn’t remember any more lines. When the cavalry rode up, he delivered the last line to his riding companion and also addressed the calvary, “I t’s easy to talk to a horse if you understand his language.”

The quote was lost on both the police officers and the ranch owner when they arrived on two separate ATVs. 

Shawn intro ducted himself to the officers, “Hello, I’m  psychic detective Shawn Spencer, and this is my partner Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater,” gesturing to Pierre, whose facial expression did not falter. 

The shorter officer asked, “You found the body?” 

Pierre rolled his eyes at their stupidity. The rancher came up and held her hand over her mouth, “That’s Ricardo!” The other officer stopped her from getting any closer. She whimpered, “He’s my assistant trail hand.”

“Ma’am, you need to calm down.” Officer Anderson said. Officer Smith pulled out his notebook, “When was the last time you saw Ricardo?” 

“He-he went out earlier this afternoon. I was starting to get worried when Kit Kat came back without him. I was going to look for him. I just  _ knew _ something was wrong.”

Shawn piped up, “Something wrong indeed has happened. Deadly sins level wrong to the 7th degree.” All the attention was on him now, and he raised two fingers to his temple, “He was murdered.” 

Anderson scratched his chin. “It looks like he fell off a horse.” 

“You can’t see what I can. The spirits are telling me that this man has been poisoned.” Eileen gasped. 

He usually wouldn’t bother with a show for uniforms. “Where are the detectives?” 

The Sheriff will be down as soon as they verify your credentials. Your… partner here was very insistent you are legitimate.” Little butterflies flapped in his stomach from the look of pride on Pierre’s face. “Why don’t the three of you head back to the ranch and wait for the others? Smith will escort you.”

Eileen looked worried, “I still have riders on the trail. I should go find them.” 

“You do that. We would like a brief statement from everyone on this land.” 

She untied the reigns from the tree where her horse Domino was tied up and went down the trail leaving the four of them alone. Shawn started swaying and holding his stomach, pretending to dry heave and wavering down the path until he led them to the vomit and apple core. 

“Here, here. This is what Ricardo was trying to get out. This is the poison. Cyanide, to be exact.”

Officer Anderson’s lip turned up in a sneer as Smith gruffly insisted, “You get away with this in the city? Your mumbo jumbo ain’t gonna’ fly here.”

Pierre straightened, “Excuse me, gentlemen, but my partner here has solved over 30 cases for the Santa Barbara police department in the last two years. Though his methods are unconventional, his results are not. You should show a little respect.”

Unable to resist, Shawn added, “And I unearthed a dinosaur.”

Despereaux climbed into the back of the ATV and held out his hand to assist Shawn, mainly just to be obnoxious, “Now, escort us back to the ranch, and we will wait for your superior.” 

  
  


They waited for the Sheriff by the corral while Shawn called out for Kit Kat, Ricardo’s stead. It was just a guise to search all the tan and brown horses’ bags until he found Ricardo's wallet. 

Pierre asked, “How did you know this was Ricardo's horse? “

“Uh, the spirits,” Shawn replied, adding no physical motion to his words. 

“Shawn, I know you aren’t psychic. I’m merely asking how you deduced this. The poisoning could have easily been missed if it weren’t for you.”

He contemplated relying on his standard lies, and just like Pierre, there was never any evidence to contradict him. But he surprised himself, a con man revealing his tricks to another con man he supposed. 

“Well, Eileen names her horses like a child. Domino was black and white. Your white steed was called Powder. Not very creative.”

The thief scoffed. Shawn was able to sneak a peek at Richardo’s license without leaving any prints. He wanted to be fast if the Sheriff arrived, but Pierre had naturally taken in the lookout role without any instigating, so he took his time and went into the office to look around. 

  
  
  


After speaking to the skeptical Sheriff near the corral, they were informed none too nicely that they don’t need a psychic ‘prowling around,’ and we’re dismissed without considering using their services. 

  
  


Knowing how tenacious Shawn is, Pierre led him to the car, “Come along, my gorgeous gourd.” Pierre typed in Ricardo’s address into the GPS, “Let’s go visit Ricardo’s and see if Lucy is home.” 

Pulling into Ricardo’s driveway, Pierre pulled out two sets of gloves and headed to the front door. Shawn was about to ask his love to use his skills to pick the lock just as Pierre turned the knob and opened the door. Even an hour outside the city, people were far laxer with locking their homes.

While Shawn snooped around, Pierre pulled up his email and bank account information. He exclaimed, “Bingo!” 

Shawn hovered over his shoulder as Pierre pulled up the screen showing him the evidence. “Pretty open and shut case, don’t you think?”

This was a piece of pineapple upside-down cake with Pierre by his side. He saved them so much leg work with his computer skills. Shawn frowned. This case way less impressive for his liking. Pierre closed out the windows and cleared the browsing history, and they left the way they came in. 

Sensing Shawn’s disappointment, he let him take the lead, “Now what?”

Biting his lip, the younger man explained, “I would typically have Lassiter and O’Hara call the suspect and make the reveal down at the station, but I don’t think Sheriff Chew and Spit would be on board.” 

Pierre’s blues sparkled with mischief, “I have an idea.”

  
  
  


Back at the station, Smith and Anderson unkindly greeted them, “I thought the Sheriff said we don’t like your kind around here.”

Pierre ran a hand through his gold locks, “Ah, well, I came down here to make a wager with you, strapping fellas.” 

Smith propped his feet up on his desk, “Oh yeah? Why do you think we would be interested in taking your money?”

Shawn pointed two fingers in their direction, “Let’s just say I can wrap up  _ your _ case for you before Ricardo makes his way to the slab.”

Deputy Dee and Deputy Dumb shared a secret conversation with their eyes, the way long time partners could always communicate by, “How much?”

Shawn calculated how much money the new microwave he promised Gus he would replace, and then snacks, “$200.” 

Pierre raised his eyebrow, “Tsk tsk. Don’t you think our time is more valuable than that?”

The stout set Sheriff entered the station, interrupting the four of them his booming voice, “ I thought I told you boys to head home.”

Anderson piped up, “They came down here to bet they could catch the supposed killer before the stiff hits the fridge.” Pierre cringed at their lack of decorum. “For $200.”

“And Psych’s going rate,” Pierre added. 

Sheriff Spit n Chew rocked on his heels and chuckled with his boys. 

“Okay, you got yourself a bet.” 

Shawn clapped his hands, “Now if you could call someone down here, we can get out of your way.”

  
  
  


As they waited for their suspect, Shawn broached the subject of Pierre buying a house. “I’ve thought about it.”

Pierre’s deep blue eyes surveyed Shawn. “And what are you referring to?”

“You. Buying a place here. In Santa Barbara, I mean.”

A coy smile spread across Pierre’s lips. Of course, Shawn was going to agree at some point. He couldn’t let this scrumptious man out of his sight for too long. 

Unconsciously licking his lips, Pierre teased, “Oh, really.”

“Yeah. But I mean, if you’re going to be my sugar daddy, it needs to have a pool or a hot tub.” 

Pierre’s eyebrow lifted, and he countered, “Prime real estate is not cheap here, Shawn. What do I get in return?”

Looking up coyly through his dark lashes, “Ummm, I promise not to lose my phone?”

Pierre laughed and slapped Shawn's knee. He knew Shawn had just agreed on an open line of communication. Though his lack of care for his phone was one reason they didn’t talk as often as he liked, he understood this to be a responsibility. 

He also knew that there was no way that Shawn wouldn't destroy his phone and that he would also be supplying him with phones since he was incapable of taking care of them. 

  
  


Ah, the moment was here. Their suspect has finally arrived. Eileen came through the doors, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder. The Sheriff welcomed her in kind, “Hello, Eileen. Thanks for coming down. I know this is a hard day. We just have a couple of questions for you, and then you are free to leave.”

Before she could take her seat, Shawn addressed her, “Come on, Eileen.”

He raised his voice an octave higher and it was more lyrical” Come on, Eileen.”

Pierre closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, preparing himself for Shawn’s monkey business.

“Come on Eileen, Oh I swear Rickys spoken

At this moment, you did everything

To kill him, with his thoughts he confess

To buying your ranch

Ah come on Eileen

Toora loora toora loo rye aye…”

The Sheriff finally cut off his singing tirade, “Enough. Get on with it.” 

Her eyes were wide, “You’re suggesting that I killed Ricardo?”

“I’m not just suggesting it. The police will find the proof. Shawn held his hand over his stomach again, “You poisoned Ricardo's apple and timed it with his usual routine so that he would fall off his horse.” Shawn hunched over and sprang back on his toes, “You knew that the police out here know how dangerous riding is, and they wouldn’t check for the poison!”

She massaged the spot between her eyebrows before spitting out, “Why on earth would I kill my friend?”

Pierre stepped forward, “Because you may have thought of him as your friend, but he was planning to buy your ranch right under your nose.” 

Stepping back in perfect synchronicity, Shawn took his spot and cupped his ear, “What? You say you had filed the paperwork with the bank already?

Yes! He just had to wait one more week before you failed to make your monthly payment, and the ranch would have been his.” He jutted out his chin, “He didn’t know how close you were getting out of foreclosure. That you sold your house and half of your farming equipment just to make the payment this month. 

Eileen's eyes filled with tears. He only needed to push her a little bit further. Shawn grasped his stomach one more time and thundered, “She doesn’t need to know Ricardo! She KILLED YOU!” 

Shawn stopped his feet in protest. “He was going to work out a new payment plan directly with  _ you _ . He didn’t want to take away your land! He wanted to expand the business and pay off your debts with you.”

“Noooo!” She cried. “Why would he have done that?” She sank to her knees and sobbed, “I wouldn’t have killed him if I had known!”

Shawn was solemn. He had seen this scene play out many times. Pierre grasped Shawn’s hand and contributed to her pain, “Because he was a bigger person than you ever knew you could strive for.” 

The Sheriff nodded for Smith to take her away, “I believe we owe you an apology, son. We wouldn’t have been able to solve this without you. And in record time.” 

Praise always put a smile on Shawn’s face, “You may call me Speedy Rodriguez!” He pointed his finger up, ”And  _ you _ owe me some money, so pony up!”

Pierre prodded Shawn's' side, “Well, and thank you for allowing me to help Ricardo. He was a good man.”

Anderson handed over the money. Shawn was excited to know what it would feel like to.actually have that much cash in his wallet at once

Pierre nodded. “Good day, gentlemen.”

  
  
  


As they laid in their bed in the hotel, Pierre pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of Shawn's head. He was worn out from their day. He was fascinated that Shawn does this every week. He isn’t wholly averse to being around the dead and murderers, but it isn’t pleasant. It must be taxing on the spirit. His young man snuggled more into his chest, a little happy moan escaping his lips.

He held him closer. It must be Shawn's sugar intake that sustains his adventures he mused. To contemplate your own death at the hands of another is morose. Perhaps that’s why Shawn doesn’t think about it often or why he enjoys his brain being shut down when they are in private. It’s an alluring thought, peace. 

He, too, is addicted to the chase. They both trespass. While Shawn pursues Justice, he evades. The yin to his yang. 

  
  
  
  
  



	7. Safe Cracking

Gus called Shawn, upset. “You better tell me you found another apartment and that you didn’t leave town.”

“Buddy, calm down. I didn’t leave town. I’m house-sitting.” 

“You’re not just house-sitting. The whole laundry mat is empty. You didn’t even bother to lock the door!”

“You’re right. I’ll text you my address, but you gotta’ promise not to give it to anyone. Mainly my dad.” 

“Agreed. I’m coming over.”

In hymensight, he really should have told Gus, but he did honestly forget. Plus, it’s not like he actually had so much stuff he couldn’t move it himself. He was just really pumped to get settled in. 

The house that Pierre purchased was as close to the Psych office as the Fluff n’ Fold was and about the same distance away from the station. Pierre couldn’t have chosen a better location. 

  
  


Gus whistled as Shawn let him in. His dress shoes clattered on the light hardwood floors. It was an open concept home, as many of the multimillion-dollar properties in this area were. The large windows framed the ocean view from the bluff. Gus whistled. 

As half of Psych, Gus was aware something else was going on. Shawn wouldn’t have packed up his extremely low rent place to  _ house-sit.  _

He inspected the place closer. It was relatively empty, with no signs of the owners except for the artwork. “If this is just temporary, why does this place have your BananaRama poster on the wall next to a-,” he squints to read the artist’s signature. “Degas. A Degas Shawn!”

Shawn was flippant as usual, “They told me to make myself comfortable.”

Gus’ eyebrows were almost to his hairline, lips pursed, a look Shawn recognized and hated seeing on his best friend’s face. He was in deep shit. “Tell me, why isn’t the caretaker living in the guest house then?”

“This place has a guest house? Huh. Why would I live in the guest house when I can stay in the master suite?”

“What are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing any game, but I do think I packed my chalk if you want to play hopscotch outside.”

“Whose house is this?”

“Some guys!”

“No, you’re keeping something from me. You’ve been unavailable for days at a time for the last year. Who is he?”

Shawn rolled his eyes, and Gus did not budge an inch. He supposed he was going to have to tell him at some point. 

“It’s Despereaux, isn’t it?”

“Wha-”

“You have a 6-foot trampoline still in its packaging, and the dining room table is pushed into the corner. Don’t think I don't know you aren’t going to set this up inside.” Shawn blanched. “How long, Shawn?”

Shawn’s stomach dropped out. This was precisely why he didn’t tell Gus sooner, and he is royally pissed. “Why does it matter? It’s MY life.”

“Because you’re my best friend, and you kept your relationship secret. Plus, he’s an art thief!” Gus began counting his fingers, “Also, we work with the police, don’t you think this looks scandalous? You’re playing with fire.”

“Gus! It’s no big deal. He’s rich and has properties all over the world!”

“Ugh. Because he’s wealthy from selling  _ stolen _ art.” He said pointedly. “I need to go. You need to try at least to put yourself in my shoes.” 

“I did. That’s why I didn’t tell you,” Shawn admitted quietly. 

Gus’s jaw was clenched so tight, Shawn thought he was going to shatter his molars. He knew Gus was a hair’s breast away from strangling him. He threw his arms up in the air, “Don’t install that trampoline in the dining room. You’re going to break your neck on the ceiling!” With his final words, he slammed the front door on the way out. 

  
  


Well, that went as poorly as he had anticipated. Maybe he should offer Gus the guest house. Ugh. Shawn couldn’t tell if Gus was more upset he didn’t know or that it was Pierre. He hadn’t considered the repercussions about how the station would see this. He wasn’t often called into a courtroom to testify, but this perhaps would make him look a little less credible on the stand. Pshaw, he could spin it if it came up. 

Shawn was struck with the realization that he was settling down. He rationalized it by calling it squatting, but he couldn’t deny his feelings for Despereaux. He didn’t even look twice at attractive people twice anymore. Nope, just the once. So, maybe his roots were spreading in Santa Barbara. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. 

Gazing out the windows, he watched as the sun reflected off the pool. Yup! Carpe Diez! He took his phone out of his pocket, snapping a picture, and sent it to Pierre with the caption, ‘ _ It looks more peaceful than it is. Gus just left.’ _

His phone dinged immediately. ‘ _ Hello, Shawn, are you okay?’ _

_ ‘I’m fine, but I don’t like it when he’s mad at me. I think its cuz I didn’t tell him I moved out of my place and he couldn’t find me. People don’t need to know where I live.’  _

_ ‘I agree, but Gus is the exception. Perhaps, give him some time to calm down and take him out to a nice restaurant.‘ _

Shawn didn’t have any money, and using Gus’ credit card for an apology dinner would only make him madder. He typed back, ‘ _ Do burritos constipate as nice?’ _

_ ‘Shawn, You two are a winning combo. Find the olive branch and extend it.’ _

_ ‘Thanks, babe’ _

Shawn wished he could see Pierres face when he got that last message. 

_ Xoxo  _

  
  


The moment it popped into his head, he knew it was the olive branch he needed. He spent the rest of the day verifying that all of the home’s artwork was indeed not stolen. He continued his search to find the beach house’s safe. The first one was in the kitchen, behind the empty spice rack. He wrote down the make and model.

  
  


The second safe was in the most cliche place, the master bedroom closet behind a large mirror on hinges. It would be considered well hidden for a civilian, but not to himself or a thief like Pierre. There was a yellow post-it note on this safe. With a black sharpie, it read, “ _ Not this one _ .”

If Pierre suggested an olive branch, then the key to getting over their fight was in the vault. Shawn texted Gus to meet him at the beach house on Sunday at 10 am. He also included the make and model of both the safes that he found. 

Gus was pleasant enough when Shawn opened the door for him. It was clear he was eager to take a crack at the safe. Shawn caught a whiff of Gus’ betrayal as he passed him in the kitchen. While he didn’t have his BFF’s super sniffer, the scent of cinnamon clung to him. He had stopped at Churr’ All I Need on his way here. 

He clicked his tongue, but he wasn’t going to start a fight. Gus began unpacking his black bag on the counter, set on about the task of unlocking it. Shawn tried to stay out of the way, but his curiosity was getting to him. “Hurry up, Gus! There’s treasure in there!”

Under his breath, Gus muttered, “Probably stolen treasure.” He retrieved a Bluetooth hearing contraption from his bag, “This is an Amsec BLC Burglar Safe. C-Rated. It’s gonna’ take time.”

“Well, Casper Van Dien didn’t take that long killing all those alien spiders in Starship Troopers. How long could this possibly take if it’s worse than a B film!”

“Please, Shawn, the ratings on safes are not like the ratings on movies. Even though Johnny Rico killed a lot of monsters, you know that wasn’t the plot.”

Shawn was impatient, and finally, Gus snapped at him. “Fine, fine. I’ll be by the pool.” He was just as anxious outside as he was inside as boredom took its toll. He closed his eyes and pictured Pierre pinning down his arms, hovering above him. His soft chest pressing against his as he took his breath away with every kiss. 

He floated in those moments until Gus hollered. “I did it!” Shawn sat up and raced to the kitchen. 

“Wow, buddy! You’re like Catherine Zeta-Jones in Entrapment!” He peered into the safe and pulled out the two envelopes. They were both addressed to Shawn & Guster, and they each took one. Gus rattled off the combination, and it made Shawn pause. It was the anniversary of the first time they kissed—what a softie. 

Opening the envelope, Gus pulled out the contents and scanned them, “These are just provenances of the artwork here.” Of course, Shawn knew these weren’t stolen, but he couldn't hide his smug smile. “What’s in that one?”

Shawn ripped open the envelope and pulled out season passes to the amusement park and multiple giftcards with a note attached, “To the Tilt O’ Whirl!” 

Gus snatched them out of his hand with eyes wide in anticipation. As much as Gus put up a front against accepting gifts from criminals, it was what it was, just a front. “They just revealed a new wooden roller coaster that is supposed to be insane!” 

“Let’s just get that other safe open, and then we can head out.” 

Gus pushed his abilities and was able to open the other safe in under 30 minutes. A personal best for him. Before sliding the final number over, he asked Shawn, “Are you sure you want to know what’s in here? The note said-”

“-I know what the note said! Get that bad boy open so we can go eat corn dogs the size of our fists.”

The envelope was addressed to Shawn only. He read it out loud,“ _ I knew you couldn’t resist, you naughty boy. Enjoy the amusement park and tell Mr. Burton I will see him next time I’m in town. XoXo.” _

  
  


When Shawn smiled while reading the letter, his whole face transformed, and he looked ten years younger. He hadn’t seen the effect Pierre had on his friend until this moment. Maybe they were a good fit after all.

  
  



End file.
